“And yet,” said Junie, “Prospero Bell told his therapist that this kind of thing was a side effect of this machine. This God Machine or Orpheus Gate, or whatever we need to call it.”
“Sorry,” said Bolton, “I’ll buy the electrical null field, because we’re seeing that in play. But psychic projection and psychic possession is too far-out, even for me.”
I turned and studied him. “Then how do you explain what happened with Rudy Sanchez, Captain Craft, Glory Price, and a lot of other people? How do you explain the two surfer boys who attacked me yesterday? No offense, Harcourt, but are you going to sit there and tell me that you’ll believe in interdimensional travel, electrical null fields, and this God Machine and not the psychic projection stuff? I mean, come on, Erskine had a project division coded Dreamwalking. What the hell else could it have been?”
He gave me a tolerant smile. “For the record, Joe, I never said that I believed that the God Machine did anything more than disrupt electricity. I certainly don’t think we’re dealing with cross-dimensional travel, and I’m sorry, but psychic warfare was researched ad nauseam and all they discovered was a way to squander a whole lot of taxpayer dollars. No… I’ll buy a lot, but that doesn’t work for me.”
He stood up, smiled and glanced around, then gave another shake of his head.
“Junie,” he said, “you are a remarkable woman and you’ve brought us some incredibly valuable information, but we need to stay focused. Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I need to get on the phone to the president. I have to try and convince him that the DMS hasn’t lost a step getting to first base and you, Captain Ledger, have to be taken off the bench.”
He left behind a big and very pregnant silence. Church sat for a moment considering the door that Bolton had closed behind him as he left. He slowly ate a Nilla wafer and made no comment about Bolton’s parting remarks.
Something occurred to me and I dug a sheet of paper out of our case notes and placed it in front of Junie. “Bug said that there was a list of ancient books among the papers of one of the Gateway team. He ran it by Circe and she said that it was part of something called the Index Librorum Prohibitorum.”
“Oh, sure, the Pauline Index. What about it?”
I told her about the inclusion of the supposed fictional works by H. P. Lovecraft and the others.
“Oh,” she said, “you’re talking about the Unlearnable Truths.”
Church stiffened. “How is it you know that phrase?”
Junie shrugged. “That’s what Dr. Greene called those books. When Oscar Bell called, one of the things he ranted about was how he’d ruined himself by trying to find those books.”
“Did he say why he wanted them?” asked Church, and maybe there was some actual human emotion in his voice. Some real excitement.
“Prospero seemed to believe that these books contained some kind of mathematical code that would help make his machine run correctly. And by ‘correctly’ he meant that it would open the door to his world. The conversation never got farther than that — that’s when Oscar Bell started making threats and it all fell apart.” She touched Prospero’s photo. “I heard rumors that there were experiments with certain cell lines. Not clones exactly, but what they called ‘birth pairs.’ Until now I never knew if that was true.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “Now I know. God… Prospero Bell was my brother.”
We sat there in silence for a while, each of us deep in speculation as to what this all meant. Then two things happened that changed the course of the day. Maybe the course of the world.
A call came in on Church’s private line. He didn’t put it on speaker, so I only heard his half of it. “Violin,” he said, “it’s good to hear from you. Your mother said that you’ve been off the radar for quite a while. She was concerned.” He listened. Listened some more. Then he said, “You should have called me. I would have been able to bring you in. No, I don’t care what your mother has been telling you about us. The DMS is not falling apart.” He shot me a look that dared me to contradict him. I mimed zipping my mouth shut. To Violin he said, “Where are you now? Very well. Go to the Hangar. Aunt Sallie will arrange transport here.” He paused. “I’m sorry, who did you say you were with? Really? That is very, very interesting. Yes, bring him along. I would be extremely interested to meet him, too. Fly safe and don’t worry. Bring the item with you.”
He said something else to her in the language of Upierczi, which is also the private language of Arklight and the Mothers of the Fallen. Church probably doesn’t know that I’ve managed to sort out a lot of that language. I’m very talented with languages.
What he said was, “Be safe, sweetheart.”
He said it the way a father might. Yeah. So… there’s that. Which is confusing, since both Lilith and Violin told me her father was Grigor, the so-called King of Thorns, head of the Upierczi. I’d killed Grigor in the tunnels under an Iranian power station. How, then, did that explain Church’s connection to Violin? An adopted daughter? I don’t know and I doubt he’d tell me under torture.
When the call was done Church stared into the middle distance for a long time. When his eyes came back into focus he looked at Junie.
“As you overheard,” he began slowly, “that was Violin. She has been on the run from two competing groups of operators. One is a religious order I’ve run into once or twice over the years. The Ordo Fratrum Claustrorum.”
“I’ve heard of them,” Junie said. “There are a lot of stories about them. The conspiracy rumor mill is rife with them. They’re supposed to be pretty scary.”
“They are,” said Church. “The Brotherhood, as they’re also known, is very real and highly dangerous. But they’re only half the problem. The other team that has been chasing Violin are Closers.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he said, “Violin has obtained one of the books from that list. De Vermis Mysteriis. The—”
“The Mysteries of the Worm,” said Junie. “That’s one of the books Lovecraft mentioned in his stories. It’s… real, isn’t it?”
Church nodded gravely. “So it would appear. Violin has had a great deal of trouble getting it out of Europe. The Closers and the Brotherhood have been very aggressive, and she and her partner have had to go to ground to keep themselves and the book safe.”
“Her partner?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Church slowly, “she has partnered with a young CIA field agent formerly of the Hungarian station. His name is Harry Bolt.”
I shook my head. “Don’t know him.”
“You know his father,” said Church. “Harry shortened his name some time ago. His birth name is Harcourt Bolton, Junior.”
PART THREE
LIGHTS OUT
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token….
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR